Syncretism
by Wrathchild
Summary: SladeXOC. Don't like it? Don't read it, but the world needs a little Slade...and I don't mean the fluffy kind. Rated for some empassioned language and a little citrus, but not the whole lemon.
1. Default Chapter

**DO NOT judge this story by the default chapter. Read the first chapter…then hate it. That is the proper order of things.**

Disclaimer: I don't own TT…or Slade. Lay off me.

Slade wants something; she's in the way. There are only three rules to surviving alone with Slade: don't be inconvenient, don't touch the mask, and don't be in the way.

* * *

Her chest was constricting. Somewhere in the blackness an infant wailed; a long, angry sound only perfect helplessness can produce. She had to breath. She had to see.

Hands and half seen faces floated in and out of the oily blackness surrounding her, like insects around a candle flame. They came close one second, and were gone the next. They peered down long noses with unseen eyes, watching, then disappearing. The terrified screams of a baby continued all the while, filling the empty void around the small circle of light.

There was a man's voice in the background. It was a voice she knew, yet didn't. A new face parted the blackness before her. Distorted by extremes of light and shadow, the face still felt familiar.

The baby's cries became less urgent, dropping away. The vice around her chest loosened, and she welcomed the new air, sucking it down in great healing gulps. A sad, half grin carved it's way over the new face above her. She wasn't sure, but he looked almost…sorry. Why would he be sorry? This was a face she trusted. He could do no wrong.

But, something was wrong. The child resumed her screaming, and that was wrong too. The noise was too close. It echoed in her ears, her chest, her throat. It was her, she was crying, and she was the baby. And, now, she was afraid

The familiar face frowned with what might have been resolve. The inky fringes of darkness pealed away, revealing a small red syringe. Quavering shrieks escalated as the needle drew close. The hands and faces of before had not yet ventured so near. A stabbing ache bled from the neck through her body as the syringe was unloaded into the white infant flesh.

Amber woke with a choking scream.


	2. Just for a Dingdong

Hehe. This is going to be fun…for me at least. Sorry for the wait. I had _no _clue that it would take this long. The reviews were a nice surprise. I didn't know anyone read stories under 1000 words long. Cool. Anyways, stick with me. We're not going to see Slade till next chapter, but he'll be worth it.

So, to keep you all encouraged, here's an excerpt from next chapter:

_**His black silhouette stood unnaturally strait against the shower of burning debris. Sweat and blood stung her eyes, blurring her vision. "Cyborg!" Amber called out, praying his horrible stillness wasn't due to a dead power supply. **_

**_Her mistake was realized as a cold, cultured voice replied, "Hardly."  
_**  
Standard disclaimers apply: Don't own. Don't sue…what a freakin' _chore_!

(Line Break)

The cry was quick and clipped. The blackness that greeted Amber's vision made her panic, till her eyes began making out the familiar shapes of her own room. In front of her was the wide window, to the left was her reading couch, and to the right was her bookcase. Amber choked out the breath she had been holding. Everything was as it should be. The sheers over her window moved gently with a breeze, the pale gray of early morning was creeping through the room, and the sheets of her bed were again twisted around her in impossible knots. Business as usual.

Amber sat grinding her teeth, patiently waiting for the shakes to pass. The dream itself didn't bother her as much as the effect it had on her body. She pressed her cool palms into her hot, sticky cheeks, willing the heat away. The sweat on her neck and back were chilling, and her pajamas stuck to her body. Altogether unpleasant enough, but it was also frustrating. Amber hadn't had an episode in almost a year. In the back of her mind she had hoped…she had thought… well, she was wrong.

"Damn," she muttered, falling back into her pillow. The wall clock glared down "6:13" in garish green script. She could just about kill for a shower, but the running water might wake the others. Let them sleep. If she showered now she would just have to shower again after practice. She had wanted to get the training room to herself anyway.

Amber rolled over to get out of bed. She realized too late she was closer to the edge than she thought. She rolled off the bed with a squeak, landing on the floor in a tangled mess of limbs and bed sheets. Grunting and pulling, she kicked her way out of the offensive bedding. Rolling away from the mess, Amber tried to sit up. There was a sick sounding 'crack' as her head connected with the bed frame.

"AH! Mother f…" She gripped her throbbing head, scrambling to her feet. She aimed a kick at the pile on the floor, running her toes into the bedpost. Amber yelped, hopping on her one good foot and grabbing the other. And, somehow, she wasn't really surprised when her foot came flying out from under her as she slipped on the now neglected sheets, and fell hard to the floor with a shower of creative and violent expletives.

Amber lay sprawled ungracefully across the wooden floor, staring at the ceiling. A painful throbbing pounded through her head and foot. She coughed out a defeated sigh. She didn't even have the leftover grace that god gave Beast Boy. It was already a very long day.

Amber got up, a little more sober, running her hands through her sweaty chocolate locks. She usually slept in a braid, but hadn't last night. She was paying for it now. Amber grimaced, pulling her fingers free from the hot tangles and walked carefully to her mirror.

Her impish, heart-shaped face was flushed, and her usually sweet pink lips were starch white. It was a small shock every time she saw herself now (even when she wasn't sporting drawn cheeks and puffy eyes), but it was the _woman_ in the mirror that caught her off guard. When she arrived at Titan Tower two years ago, she had been a scrawny, fresh-faced eighteen-year old girl; the woman in the mirror was twenty. Her body was fuller now, her jaw-line and cheekbones were more defined, and her nose now seemed to fit her face. But, it was her eyes that had shown the most change…She hated it.

Amber closed her eyes against the disturbing image. It had to happen. Everyone grew up sometime; she just didn't feel like it yet. What was left for her post Titans anyway? The League? Fly solo? The League had certainly not expressed any interest.

Six months…in six months she would be twenty-one, a legal adult. In six months, she would be on her own. It wasn't that she couldn't take care of herself; she was more than capable. But, what was her purpose? What was she supposed to do with her gift in a world that wouldn't understand or accept it? Worse yet, what if they did understand it?

Amber shook her head. These thoughts weren't going to do her any good, nor would they make her any better at what she did. The League be damned, she could forge her own destiny. She could design her own purpose, be her own protection. Training would make everything all better.

Amber exchanged her pajamas for a black yoga ensemble and sports camisole. Pulling her hair into a loose messy bun, Amber made her way down the dark halls of Titan's Tower, leaving even darker thoughts behind her.

(Scene Break)

Another hour found the rest of the Titans sitting, more or less peacefully around the breakfast table.

"It looks great Star! But, uh…what is it?" Robin asked, giving the oozy, puce lump an experimental poke with his fork.

Starfire squealed, delighted with the compliment. "It is warfles, the traditional morning meal of the Tamaranian court." Star beamed, looking proud and cheerful even for her.

"It doesn't look like any kind of waffles I've ever seen," said Cyborg, cringing as his own crusty blob ate his fork out of his hand. Next to him, Beast Boy seamed unconcerned. Ignoring his utensils, he up-ended his plate into an unnaturally large mouth, swallowing the thing whole.

"Kinda' tastes like tofu," BB belched happily. Cyborg gawked, shock and revulsion mixed over his face.

"Juuust let her tell you what's in it," Raven deadpanned lightly, sipping on her lonely cup of tea. She, of course, had made her standing on breakfast very clear.

"It is not waffles, friend Cyborg, 'warfles'. I have spent three weeks harvesting the secretions of the heglorp worm, and the m'nflorp fungus must cultivate 75 years before being scraped from the rump of the kordung warfle to be shipped billions of light years to earth. I am overjoyed that you enjoy this delicacy of my home planet, friend Beast Boy." Starfire went chibi with delight.

Beast Boy seamed suddenly three shades greener, gaping at Starfire wide-eyed and open-mouthed. BB sprinted from the table, gloved hand over his mouth, disappearing behind the sliding main room doors. Cyborg and Robin stared after him with matching looks of horror. The boys flashed Starfire identical forced smiles.

"Look, Red X!" Cyborg shouted, striking his very best startled-pointing-hero pose. All heads snapped to face an imaginary enemy in the kitchen as Cyborg dumped his warfle onto Robin's unwatched plate. Robin and Starfire turned back with questioning looks, Robin raising a suspicious eyebrow. Raven observed with an air of mild humor.

"Whoops, guess not. Trick of the eyes, or somethin' like that. Hooo! I'm full. Thanks for breakfast Star. Bye," Cyborg darted, leaving a dumbstruck Robin with Starfire, Raven, and a heaping plate of warfles.

(Break)

With the main room out of view Cyborg slowed his pace, releasing a sigh of relief. He almost felt sorry for Robin, till he decided it was just another game he had won. The thought of holding it over Robin's head later greatly improved Cyborg's mood. His stomach, however, was complaining loudly over missing breakfast.

"Man! Maybe I should have tried Star's cookin'," in the background Cyborg could hear Beast Boy heaving, "orrr, maybe not." But, that didn't change the fact he was hungry. Cybernetic human's need food too. "Maybe Amber's got somethin'," Cyborg's stomach agreed. Amber always kept a supply of powerbars and ding-dongs for the rare occasion Star or Beast Boy were allowed to cook.

But, where was she? She was always at breakfast, come hell or Star's cooking. If it was something nasty she would just say she was on a strict diet, which was true (though the ding-dongs were her and Cy's little secret), but Amber was _always_ at breakfast. Unless…she was in the training room.

"Ahh, man…" Breakfast would be a little while in coming. Amber only trained through breakfast when she had trouble sleeping, and there was only ever one reason she had trouble sleeping. Cyborg rubbed his temples. He had been so distracted with warfles he hadn't noticed her missing. It had been months since her last episode, almost a year. They all thought she had found the right therapy. Whatever the case, powerbar or moral support, Cyborg had to see her. It was almost time for training anyway.

(Break)

He could hear her before he opened the door. _Thwack, thwack, thud…KRACK. _Cyborg sighed. Amber on the punching bag was not a good sign. He depressed the button. The doors opened on an airy, wide-open gym. Weights and aerobics equipment occupied one half of the room. Mats, weapons, targets, and combat equipment lined the walls of the other half. To the right and near the center, Amber was punishing some undeserving 'whack sack'. _Thwack, thwack, thud, _duck_, KRACK!_

Cyborg just watched. She was rarely so involved with an exercise. She was in the zone, and he could observe without her noticing.

She wasn't exactly the fragile, graceful, willowy type. Sturdy legs and solid shoulders made her less than delicate. Her powerful body made for devastating hits…when she could land one. Her fighting technique was not typical. She moved more like a ferret than a woman, opting for swift, indirect hits, usually delivered with a curve. It was not the most effective mode of combat (being easy to read and easier to block), but the uniqueness caught unfamiliar opponents off guard. She could prove to be distracting.

Amber wasn't really a bombshell, not like Starfire or Raven anyway. But she did have her own variety of charm. Her powerfully built body was graced with sweeping, feminine curves that set her apart from her teen counterparts. Her strange, swirling combat was pleasant to watch, and her button nose crinkled when she was concentrating. But, it was the eyes that held the attention. She was the kind of girl that could make or save a sinner.

"You going to train or what?" Amber finished off her combination, let the bag sway slightly, and let loose with a random flurry of basic left-rights. "Did you need something?"

Cyborg mentally smacked himself, "Star made breakfast. Care to join us?"

Attention on the bag, Amber chuckled lightly. "Nooo thanks. Raven told me what was in it."

She continued whacking at the defenseless bag. Left, left, knee, duck uppercut, dance. It was a smooth, fluid combination she had been practicing all morning. She liked the flow of boxing, even if she would never be truly efficient with it (it wasn't her fighting skills that got her on the team). Compared to eastern martial arts boxing was even primitive, but it had its place. It was a good workout, a great stress reliever, and (according to Beast Boy) it was also an aphrodisiac. Suggestions like that always earned him a solid crack on the head.

Cyborg watched a while longer, noting her flushed face and unprotected stance. She wasn't training, just venting. Judging by her 'glowing' skin and 'rosy' cheeks she had been venting for a while. She wasn't going to stop on her own, either. He might as well just state the obvious.

"So the nightmare's back," Cyborg asked/stated.

Amber's uppercut missed and rolled, mashing her wrist into the bag with a crunch. Spears of pain forked up her arm, and through her shoulder. Amber yelped pitiably, hopping in a circle and gripping her wrist. Cyborg winced. The juvenile display would have been funny if he didn't know what that felt like.

"Gah, shhhhh…mother fu-udge cake," Amber choked, folding over her crippled hand. _That_ was funny.

"Eeek! My virgin ears," he laughed, "You cuss worse than Robin."

Amber glared from behind loose bangs, "I don't cuss in front of children," she growled. Cyborg knew it was just a semi-playful swing at his age. She was only two years older, but she gave him a hard time about it when she was annoyed, or when he was acting particularly silly; like when him and BB would drag out the old 'stank ball'.

"Come on," he said sympathetically, "Lemme' see that." Cyborg pried her arm from her full-body grip. Amber bit down on her lip, gritting out something about an insufferable prick that had broken her concentration.

Cyborg sighed. Her hands were shaking horribly, and the areas around the wrist tape were bruising. Under the tape it was worse. The mashed wrist would need ice, as would her red, swollen knuckles. He didn't even know what to do about the bleeding between the fingers, and he had a sense the left hand wasn't much better.

Cyborg fixed her with a scolding look, "You know, we need these hands."

Amber threw back a humorless laugh, "Ah, yes. Whatever would you do without me?" Cyborg graced her with a rebuking gaze that left her feeling like the younger Titan. He began unwrapping the other hand, and shook his head.

"You know Robin's gonna kill you, right?"

Amber sighed, "Honestly Cyborg, I hadn't noticed. I was just swinging." Cyborg nodded. He knew she wasn't the self-mangling type. She couldn't have felt anything with the tape that tight anyway. She must have been distracted.

"Next time you feel like swinging, get someone else to tape you."

"You offering to get up at six to tape me?" Amber smirked.

"Throw in a ding-dong and you got a deal…shit," Cyborg pealed away the last of the bloody wrapping. It was, indeed, little better than the other hand. "It's times like this I wish you could just heal yourself."

"But, then what would you do?" Amber joked, but the dark mood of the tallest Titan wouldn't be lifted. Spinning her around like a toddler, Cyborg steered her to the sink by the shoulders. Amber might have been older, but _he_ had a good head+shoulders over her.

Cyborg cranked on the cold water. Amber hissed as it hit her sore hands. Pink water circled the sink lazily before disappearing down the drain. She really had overdone it. If she were Cyborg she would be angry too. Amber searched her hands with her mind's eye, looking for any true damage, but all injury was topical. She would be able to freely use her gift without too much discomfort. Maybe Robin wouldn't even have to know.

"So…how bad was it?" Cyborg leaned against the wall expectantly. He wasn't going to let this pass. Her wrist was turning black with the fresh blood-flow. He had been right; Robin was going to kill her.

Amber didn't answer immediately, occupying herself with rubbing off the dried blood. It was hard to explain, especially when she had been trying to ignore it. The dream had been essentially the same as before, besides the weird, new ache in her neck. But, her mind…

Amber turned off the water, and just stared at the dripping faucet. The dream itself wasn't dangerous; it was what the dream meant, it was the first slip in her defenses. But, her 'condition' was more progressed than that. Her mind was in more disorder than it should be. She could feel the trigger building up, coiling for release.

Slowly, the words formed themselves in Amber's mouth, "I think…I might want to break out the collar." Saying it out loud was like swallowing battery acid. The familiar shame was quick in coming. She couldn't even look at him.

"WHAT," Cyborg started, "I thought it was just the first dream. You need the _collar_!" Cyborg's voice cracked.

"Just for battles Cy…and maybe sleeping. I don't think I'm really dangerous yet," Amber finished weakly.

"_Really dangerous!_ _YET! _Amber, HOW BAD?"

"How do you want me to answer that, Cyborg?" she shouted back, "Do you _want_ me to remind you what will happen if I have a meltdown, or do you just want to get me _MY DAMN COLLAR?"_ Amber turned her head away. She could feel tears brimming in her eyes. She hated feeling out of control, she hated feeling useless, and she _hated_ being a liability.

The collar could keep her gift in check, keep her from killing people, but it was an extreme measure. Wearing the collar was painful and inconvenient. Amber only wore the thing when an 'episode' was eminent. Before they tried meditation therapy, she would have weeks of dreams before she felt volatile enough to wear the thing. Raven's meditation techniques _had_ been working. She had been dream and meltdown free for so long, she thought she was over it. She should have been over it. Now (once again) she was a liability, and now she was more unpredictable. Amber was truly ready to blow. What if next time she had no warning at all? How long would it be before she actually killed someone?

Amber turned her back to Cyborg, focusing her attention on drying her hands. Whatever the problem, he didn't deserve this. Hot, shameful tears spilled over her cheeks. She didn't deserve him.

"Cyborg, I…" but she wasn't able to finish. Damn her uncooperative vocal cords.

"Hey, it's OK," Cyborg cooed, pulling her into one of his 'famous' hugs. Amber melted. Nothing felt as safe as being enveloped in a massive pair of consoling arms. His metal chest felt cool against her hot face. Amber brushed back the tears, and gratefully returned the gesture. Liability or not, she was loved here.

"Aaaam I interrupting something?" a cocky tone floated from the doorway. The pair broke apart, blushing. Robin leaned casually against the doorframe, a smug smirk plastered across his masked face. Cyborg sweat-dropped.

"Shouldn't you be yackin' warfles with Beast Boy?" he scowled.

"What!" Amber shot him a look that said he had better be joking. He hadn't mentioned her BB being sick.

"Now I'm sure he's fine," he threw his hands up in surrender, "Just a little lemon fizzy and some crackers he'll…" Cy's stomach interrupted loudly. Robin's smirk widened to a grin.

"Long time till lunch, Cyborg."

"Oh, like you actually ate it," he shot back, punctuating the point with Robin's own stomach growling. Amber laughed. The pair was just fun to watch.

"Come on guys. I've got a couple of Powerbars with your names on 'em." Amber went to depress the open button on the doors. She was brought up short by a gloved had gripping her elbow.

"What the hell is this?" Robin voice was quiet and deliberate, "What the hell happened?" Concern bled through the harsh question. Amber went stiff. Robin's change from cocky Boy Wonder to forbidding commander was chilling. His back was ramrod straight, his shoulders squared. Every visible feature of his young face was sharp and unyielding; narrowed, white eyes demanded she answer. To see this side of him was comforting and disturbing. The condition of her arm would be complicated and sensitive to explain.

Flashing red lights blared to the sound of alarms and groans. The awkward tension eased.

"This can wait," Robin said dropping her arm. Cyborg let his muscles release.

"Yeah, breakfast too."

"And a shower," Amber grimaced. Now she really did feel nasty.

"Later. Titan's, GO!" and cocky Boy Wonder was back, sprinting down the hall in a blur of obnoxious color.

Cyborg rolled his eyes, "Does he really have to say that. Like we don't already know from the blazing lights and sirens that we _have_ a mission."

"Is my collar ready?" Amber's face went neutral, watching after the retreating Robin.

Cyborg looked at her with a measured pause, "It isn't juiced. It's ready, but it will need charging."

"Guess I shouldn't have left it where silky could get to it," she grinned slightly, "It's in your workshop?"

"Yeah, top drawer on the right. Charger's on the work bench, behind the candy wrappers and chewed pencils."

"I'll catch up."

"Ok, but hurry. It's just not a party with out you."

Cyborg ran to catch the others, turning out of sight around a corner. Amber stood in the center of an empty training room alone.

"Yeah. What's a party without the team nurse?"

(Finish…for now)

(A:N)

Yeah, I'm sorry, waiting sux. The whole conversation with Cy was like pulling teeth.

Now, I know some of you have a thing against OC's, but I kinda had a problem pairing Slade with a girl that hasn't fully finished puberty yet. So I didn't use Terra (who's dead and just makes things more twisted), but Amber should be pleasant enough. If she starts seeming too Mary-Sueish, just give me a swift kick in the ass. I_ hate_ Mary-Sues.

Next chapter's going to be fun, so it will be quicker in the coming. Review if you like it; review if you don't like it. So I know what I'm doing right…or not so right. KISSES!

P.S. Anyone want a clubbing scene? Yes? No? Anyone?


	3. Waiting

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…sorry. Computer broke, school, work…chronic perfectionism. I am sooo sorry. But, you made it! After I was such a b#&ch and everything. I do have to apologize…that was kinda' low. For those of you who are still reading…_sob_…I love you guys.

Anyway, there's some decent action in this chapter: Amber's power, the collar, the inklings of a plot, and Slade's premier (_squeals). _On to the fun stuff!

Oh, and here's your next chapter's excerpt:

_**The slow, steady click of metal boots marked his approach. She rolled to her back, her body wracked by choking coughs. The glowing beam lit her shining, ash-streaked skin. Her back arched, hair spread beneath her, teeth bared in pain. Perfect.**_

_**The boot steps stopped. Amber sucked back a burning breath, peering through watery eyes at a casually kneeling Slade. Firelight danced manically off his mask, painted his body in dramatic relief. Head tilted, cold eye gleaming; he watched her struggle with an air of amusement. **_

Disclaimer: TT isn't mine…Slade isn't either.

* * *

In the woods on the outskirts of Jump City, the base sat quiet in a wide clearing. Razor wire curled about the perimeter in tall, grizzly heaps. Gun towers pocked the surreal landscape; unconscious men littered their posts.

A hot, eerie breeze blew through empty trees boughs, ruffling the hair of the arriving Titans. The scene and the silence made Robin tense; this felt wrong already.

"Raven?"

"The men are alive," Raven floated to his side, "but they may require some attention."

"Amber," Robin waited a beat before turning. He hadn't even realized she wasn't there; another disturbing variable. Robin looked to Cyborg, one eyebrow raised, questioning.

"She'll be late," He said matter-of-factly, looking pointedly at the ground.

Robin frowned, "Right…stats."

"It's a military base for the housing of specialized weapons intelligence," Cyborg read off the mission specifics.

"Big guns?"

"Not quite," he corrected, "In this case, 'specialized' means unconventional." Robin' eyes narrowed, a muscle along his jaw tensed.

"Great," Raven groaned.

"Yeah, great…what do you mean 'unconventional'?" Beast Boy asked nervously.

"It means we need to get moving. Raven, do what you can for the men till Amber gets here; the rest of you are with me." Robin started for the complex at a run, three loyal teammates in tow, Raven glaring bitterly at their backs.

* * *

Amber paced the length of the workroom floor. The 'collar' lay glowing softly on a cleared patch of workbench. The soft, periodic beeping noises of the charger mixed with the flickering of the old florescent light bulbs made the annoying situation a maddening one.

She was left behind…_DAMN it._ The kids were out kicking bad guy butt, and she was waiting on her freakish jewelry to charge. What if she didn't even need it just yet? Forcing a deep breath, she leered at the cause of her annoyance.

It wasn't so large (an inch and ¼ wide, about 12 inches round), but it was a massive weight on the mind. When on, the control and use of her gift slowed to a crawl; like in those dreams when you try to run, but you can't. That was its purpose, to slow the process, to provide a control she didn't have…to cripple her.

Slowly, a bitter sneer passed over her face like a storm cloud. The metal band before her made her sick. Maybe the return of the dream made her panic; maybe she had overreacted. She had suppressed this…_thing_ before. _She _was in control, right?

Black memories answered: **_His pudgy face contorted in fear, faded from view as she lost control, that _thing_ taking over. She saw her own face as from someone else's eyes disappearing behind a wet sheet of red, then black; the unmistakable feel of the heart exploding against her ribcage; the final breath ripped from her body as he screamed… screamed…_**

"RAAA…" Amber kicked a neglected Stank Ball across the room, through the window. The sharp sound of shattering glass filled the space, grated against her nerves like a soothing acid.

Eight _damnable_ minutes. Eight more minutes till the collar was fully charged. She was already in battle dress; white uniform on, specialized wrist braces in place. If the fight wasn't over before she got there, she would work out her frustrations on a real target…hopefully.

* * *

They met no resistance in the entrance hall, or at the first checkpoint. More battered (but breathing) servicemen cluttered the floor.

The destruction and precision had been absolute. The military-grade blast doors were blown clear off, the explosives having been set where the door met the wall. Security doors two and three were blown apart in the same way. The assailant had been prepared, and informed.

Debris scattered across the concrete. Chunks of drywall and wooden beams hung precariously from the damaged ceiling. Laser and bullet holes riddled the hallway walls. Metal shards crunched under their boots as they passed the last twisted threshold into the massive, circular main room.

"Dudes! This place is huge!" Beast Boy's voice echoed over the sterile white concrete walls.

The center of the room dropped down into an opening surrounded by railing. Looking over the railing, there were more floors beneath them, all lined with railing, hallways, and more doors. In the center of the opening, from floor to ceiling, was a cylindrical elevator connected to each floor by a floating walkway. Aluminum, emergency stairs snaked around the elevator column. The scale was enormous.

"It is roomy," Robin murmured, arching his neck for a better view of the ceiling.

"But there has to be a thousand rooms in here, which one has our Mr. Bad?" Cyborg asked.

"Perhaps, this 'Mr. Bad' is working for Slade?" Star asked innocently, leaning out over the rail.

The hair raised on the back of Robin's neck, "Why do you say that, Star?"

"Because there are Slade bots on the bottom floor."

"Starfire! Get Back!" Robin yelled, too late. A curtain of laser fire filled the space where Starfire had been, sending the alien girl sailing into the wall.

"Titans! GO!"

* * *

The attack on the complex had been successful. The workers, scientists, janitors, and guards had all been easily evacuated or discarded. The supercomputer was an open book. Black Files from every system were being downloaded directly into a by-standing Slade automaton, and the entire base would soon go up in smoke.

But, the mission was a failure. Hacking into the supercomputer's Black Files had been easy, but the information he sought had never been there in the first place. His true goal remained to be met.

The visit had not been a total waste, however. The coded and compressed recesses of the super mainframe had told him were to find the information he required…and whom to beat it out of.

Laser fire (and Robin's inane catchphrase) announced the Titan's arrival. Good. They saved him a trip. His new informant might need a little motivation. A certain member of the Titans would provide it. It was poetic, really; a Titan used as a tool for his own purpose. The irony was appealing.

Deception, separation, and manipulation. The plan was quick, gritty, and classic; practically foolproof, and Slade was no fool. This would be entertaining.

* * *

Beyond the tree line, angry clouds were boiling across the sky, throaty thunder rolled quietly over the baleful scene. It looked like something out of a war movie. Bloody, stumbling men in uniform walked back and forth between rows of groaning, waking, and comatose men. Soldiers barely able to stand giving water, splinting limbs, looking for friends. A steady stream of ambulances, emergency response vehicles, and fresh replacement troops began to fill the previously silent woods.

Raven repeated her mantra. Black energy cradled another cataleptic soldier, laying him neatly at the end of a long row of men. She was not happy. Triage was _not _her job. This was Amber's thing, _she_ was the miracle healer. Raven belonged on the base, on the front lines, with…with the team. Robin must have felt it too; something was _very_ wrong with this mission. They all needed to be doing what they did best.

Raven released a gravelly sigh. She knew Amber couldn't really be blamed. If she had to be late, there was a good reason, but this didn't make her absence any less abrasive. Raven would still have to wait for her arrival before returning to the real job at hand.

The situation as it concerned the men was complicated. Some of them had precious few minutes before their condition became critical. Those had to be taken to the hospital immediately; so they didn't die waiting for a late savior. All minor cuts and tweaks were being treated by arriving paramedics, the rest were being stabilized for the wait; Amber would take care of those when she got there…whenever she decided to show up.

To her right, a pair of paramedics argued quietly over one prostate soldier. Both stopped short as their patient woke with a shrill, gurgling cry. The sound went on and on, rising in pitch, making Raven's hair stand on end. It was a scream of hysterical panic and desperate confusion. She found herself pushing the younger paramedic out of the way.

Raven extended her hands over his face and chest, siphoning off what pain the man could feel before looking him over. The screaming cut off, quiet shock taking its place. His eyes were wide and dilated, riveted to Raven's face. The soldier was really no more than a boy. Blood spilled from his mouth with every strained breath. Her empathic senses told her everything.

"_What_ is he still doing here," Raven's trademark deadpan was dangerously low. The boy's neck was broken, spinal cord severed; one rib had broken and impaled a lung, filling the chest cavity's natural vacuum. The kid was dieing, drowning on his own blood.

A burly female paramedic stood close by. Raven recognized the woman from other missions, Tami. She was an older woman; worry lines beginning to crease her face, her short, dark curls beginning to show signs of grey. Her mouth was set in a grim line.

"Either he waits here to live, or waits there to die," Tami's face was drawn but resolved, "No hospital could save him now." Beside her, the junior paramedic scowled, looking away, and raising the IV. Apparently, he didn't feel the same way.

Raven felt sick. This was beyond hopeless. Rain pattered over the field, raising puffs of dust where it hit the ground. The sun finally gave up, yielding to the storm, unleashing a downpour. The ground hummed, but not because of the rain.

Unnatural silence fell as the men took notice, listening and feeling with strained expressions. The earth itself was vibrating, accompanied by a faint metallic sound in the distance. Raven looked out over the ravaged service men, all looking at her, expecting an answer. She started as a firm hand grabbed her arm, gently demanding attention.

Tami knelt beside her, looking intent. The rain had plastered her usually frizzy hair against her crinkled forehead, and ran into her sharp hazel eyes.

"Honey, you'd better check that out," the older woman kept her voice low and gentle, turning her back on the crowded field, "Some of these men, they can't wait for your friend much longer." The quiet urgency of the statement caught Raven off guard.

"Prepare the men for emergency evacuation," Raven whispered, turning her back on the men, "Don't move till I say." Gliding over to an opening in the trees, she glanced back. "Keep that one here," she said, pointing to the boy.

Raven flew straight up, ignoring the torrential rain and the way her cloak was beginning to cling. At first she couldn't see anything, grey sheets of rain obscuring everything, vicious wind driving it into her face. This wasn't going to work. Black energy formed above her, blocking the rain like an umbrella.

Her breath caught in her chest. The entire forest was moving, treetops quaking with the rhythm of marching feet. Glistening black and copper bodies passed between the trees like a spider army. The front line was coming to her. It was time for the men to leave.

* * *

Tiny metal tentacles bore into the back of her neck, twisting and coiling into position around her vertebrae. The cold metal about her throat stopped glowing, indicating its integration was complete. There was a quick 'sssnap' as the circle was closed and locked. Amber winced, gritting her teeth. It might as well have been a prison door slamming.

Amber took a calming breath, letting her body accept the invasion. Receptor and emitter nerve endings buzzed; cold numbness followed. Disturbing and uncomfortable, but the chill leaking through her fingers and pooling in her chest meant she was ready to go. Hopefully, there wouldn't be anything worse than broken bones today.

* * *

The stillness and silence that had permeated the base erupted, replaced by lasers, explosions, twisting metal, and whoop-ass. _This _was something Robin understood; _this _was something he could handle.

It took no time taking the battle to the bottom floor. The slinky black droids were in guard mode, sticking in close clusters, moving only to aim, and engaging only in a certain radius. Disarming the robots from a distance took seconds. Star bolts, bird-a-rangs, and sonic-blasts removed limbs, created wreckage, brought chunks of cement down on their black mechanical heads. The android forces were decimated. It couldn't have been easier if they had been standing still. Strange.

An armored door loomed open and undamaged beyond the mess of twisted animatronic parts. The sick, pasty computer-screen glow filled the room without lighting it. Random images and complex equations blurred across the giant screen at super speed.

"Is that…" Robin started, masked eyes wide.

"…a military grade supercomputer with all the information you would ever need to keep the American government on its knees, and hold millions of innocent lives in the palm of your hand? Yeah." Cyborg finished for him.

Beast Boy whistled, gazing up in awe, "Aw, man. Just think of the games you could play on this thing." BB finished with a swoon, drooling. He was snapped from his reverence by a glowing pair of dead eyes, gazing out from a black corner next to the computer. Every hair on his body stood at full attention. "Hey, guys…"

"We see it," Robin growled.

The thing shifted, revealing a sleek black body connected to the computer by a thick chord. Its clawed metal hand held a black disc. "Titans…" Robin started, but the droid was quicker. Sparks flew in the darkness, illuminating its copper faceplate as it yanked the chord from its chest, and jamming the disc into the computer in one fluid motion. It darted past them with surreal speed, reaching the elevator before any of them realized what it was doing. Robin had never seen one move like that.

"He's carrying weapons intelligence, Titans FIRE!"

"NO! Wait," a heavy metal hand came down on Robin's shoulder, spinning him around to look at the computer. The screen had stopped on the picture of a giant copper 'S'. Black bled from the familiar symbol, crawling across the monitor and overtaking the image of a particularly complicated blueprint. A virus.

"That thing might be the only record of what was on this computer!" Cyborg entreated desperately, "The government might need that!"

Robin looked at first like he would argue, but turned instead to Star and Beast Boy, "You two, follow it…NOW!" he shouted when they didn't move fast enough. Robin ran to the computer where the 'Metal Man' was desperately pushing the eject button, trying to dislodge the viral disc, "Cyborg, can you stop it?"

"Dude, this is a Military Super Computer. Even the keyboards are coded…and there's 13 OF THEM!" Cyborg's voice raised an octave as his metal hands flew over every button within reach.

"Sooo…can you stop it?" Robin repeated.

Cyborg sighed, looking at his captain with an air of long-suffering, "Yeah, yeah…just give me a second." Cyborg began typing furiously over the keyboards in the center command consul, "Spiky-haired, tooth-pick wonder boy; thinks I can walk on water."

Robin grinned. Somehow, he knew Cyborg was going to say that. The grin faded as his communicator crackled to life, "Robin…you guys nee…get up here…" Static was interfering, but the panic came through loud and clear; something that didn't often happen with Raven.

"You'd better get going," Cyborg mumbled, but Robin was already gone.

The room was empty and still again, aside form the clickety sound of rapid-fire typing. Cyborg to save the day again. The blackness fully covered the screen now, but he hardly noticed. He was so close.

Punching in the command, Cyborg crossed his fingers, waiting for the machine to eject the virus. A grating, whirring noise erupted from the computer before spitting out the smoking disc, but the screen remained black. The large 'S', however, had changed. Slade's face was in its place, leering down on a frustrated Cyborg.

"Man! What the hell!" the disgust in his voice couldn't be mistaken, his hands returning to their task. From the monitor, Slade chuckled. Cyborg stopped, looking up at his enemy. Was Slade watching?

"Surprise!" the cyber-Slade hissed, eye narrowed.

"Huh?" Cyborg squinted, confused. Blue-white energy shot up from the computer consul, spiraling up his arms, engulfing his body, filling the dark room. He didn't even have time to shout before he hit the floor, and knew nothing.

* * *

Yeah, I know…I was going to get to the part where she and Slade rumble, but after some changes it would have been a six thousand-word chapter. But, we're close…we're really close. Next one will be faster…and probably a little longer. And sorry about the late update…I really did have it typed out, it was just never good enough for me. I finally decided it never would be, so here's what I got. How was I supposed to know two thousand words could turn into six thousand?

**OH! And to all of you beautiful people…**

**Hod'j'Podj:** YAAY, for the first reviewer. You can't imagine how excited I got when I saw that. I was totally jumping in circles doing the 'moose dance'. I

hope your still reading. BIG kiss…the chocolate kind.

**Aquastorm: **Weeeelll…I don't know. This is rated 'T' and I hope to keep it that way. But, maybe I'll consider an alternative chapter later…maybe. And wait till you read the citrus first. You might not want me to go farther.

**Dark Kamikazi: **Now you've done it, I want my cookies. Your review just got me smile'in. I was totally tickled.

**Lady Draculea: **You got it! (Thingies is as good a word as any) So, do you want to be a good guy, or a bad guy? Also, so you want it to be 'Lady Draculea' or do you have something else in mind? I can do either. Nothing beats the satisfaction of a well-rounded review. Yeah for Lady!

**Lotus Paradox: **Wow! Great name. And what a compliment! I'm glad you like complicated stories. You and me, we need a little extra. Loves and Huggles!

**Silverblood Demon Alchemist: **You guys totally spoil me. And, a dictionary definition! Just choose the name, gender, and moral affiliation, Love. I got a special place for you.

**Nyanna:** HeHe. Short and Sweet. I like it!

**Aznka: **Yeah, spelling was never my best subject. Sorry about the confusion, I had hoped to let a little more out of the bag by now, but the most of the answers are a ways away. The advice is _very_ appreciated, I can't even tell you. Gives a low bow of respect my thanks. Constructive criticism is hard to come by.


	4. Deception

OK, this is part one of two, because I've decided to make shorter chapters. Just stop believing anything I say…I can't tell you what I'm about to do next. Trying to write this thing is like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. As far as I can tell…those Slade excerpts are scheduled to part two of 'Meetings'. Think of it this way, shorter chapters mean quicker updates.

P.S: I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, so just push on to Part Two…part one is just to get you to part two, but there is some important stuff, so read anyway.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Slade…Slade owns me.

* * *

Amber fishtailed around the next corner, back tire tearing up the muddy back road. Another wave of ambulances barreled past her, sirens blaring. They must be evacuating. She had heard Raven over the communicator, and her damn crotch-rocket just wasn't going fast enough.

She knew the base. Her blood ran cold when she read the name. The military called it Jump Storm; to Amber and her father it was Asylum. When Mr. Wayne offered them a life worth living, her father's employment with the base was part of the deal. Jump Storm was their lifeline, and Daddy's passion. She quickly thanked God her father was on leave.

The trees ended abruptly, opening on field Amber didn't recognize. She slid to a stop next to an abandoned ambulance, throwing off her helmet. The wind and rain assaulted her ears till she could hear nothing else. It was like a dream…a twisted dream.

Black clouds domed over and smothered the field; explosions and laser fire filled the clearing. Hundreds of Slade bots marched on the base in waves. Ten of them were ripping at T-rex Beast Boy's back as he rolled over crushing most of them (and any others in his way) before changing again. Robin and Starfire stood back-to-back keeping the demonic dolls at bay, while Raven held off attacks on the opposite side in a dome of black energy. Amber remained frozen.

Since Amber joined the team they dealt with the odd Slade bot here and there, ten…maybe 20 at a time, but never so _many_. She had never even seen Slade. It had been years since that freak did anything this dramatic. What could have caused him to resurface so violently…on _her_ base?

A quiet, screaming voice called her from a distance. Amber caught Robin's panicked eyes as he pointed dynamically in the other direction. She turned just in time to see the rocket as it sizzled past her head, and into her parked bike.

The pressure wave blew her face first to the ground, her bike exploding in a twisted fireball at her back. Searing heat and frigid rainwater mingled down her back, the smell of crushed grass and sulfur filled her head and cleared the fog. The trance was broken.

"Oh, it's on!" she grunted under her breath, getting to her feet. Her mind and body felt mashed as she shook off the last of the shock, ears ringing from the explosion. She stumbled into a run, pushing away physical distractions. _Something_ was going to pay, and she was going to start with the smaller group around Raven.

* * *

Sparks flew where his bow staff was buried in the bot's eye. Robin didn't bother removing it before slamming the staff into the next one, sending chunks of skull and motherboard everywhere.

Behind him, Star was holding her own taking out two, sometimes three at a time. Beast boy in dino-form flopped on his back beside them, writhing and grinding as many droids as he could into the mud. They just kept coming.

Near the tree line, two androids stood apart, holding a rocket launcher, aiming across the field. He followed their line of sight to where Amber stood, dazed and stationary.

Robin yelled her name, fending off an attack while trying to get her attention, trying to make her move. He watched in horrible slow motion as the rocket was launched, flaming tail lighting her shocked face before detonating behind her. Relief was near overpowering. This wasn't her field. They needed combat reinforcements, now.

Robin flipped out his communicator, smashing his heavy boot into a metal midsection, "Damn it, Cyborg, are you done yet?" no response, "CYBORG." Robin cursed under his breath, tossing a few quick bird-a-rangs, and calling for Star to cover him. A quick vitals check told him Cyborg was down, but breathing. So they were out two teammates, one military supercomputer, and one loaded spy-bot. Batman was going to kill him.

* * *

The energy washed through her arms, crackling to life in her hands as she ran. Her wrist braces glowed softly with the blue techno-look Cyborg gave all his inventions. He made them for her when they realized her bio-energy could be converted to short-out mechanical threats; it worked especially well on Slade bots, provided she could get hold of the head.

She took the first one with both hands, the black metal skull turning hot beneath her finger as the energy passed through its artificial brain. The thing convulsed, went ridged, and collapsed. The adrenaline spiked as she took the next two, one in each hand, dropping them like sandbags and ramming their creepy, steaming faces into the mud for good measure.

The others finally took notice. Fifty-plus gleaming eyes turned in unified recognition of the new threat. This high on adrenaline, she couldn't have cared if they were all Slade himself. She just wondered how many she could take down before someone else took the rest.

One second passed, then two. They just stood there outside her reach, still surrounding the black dome that was Raven's stronghold, staring. The strangeness of it was becoming annoying. Amber coiled, preparing to make first move.

As if on cue, a disc exploded against one metal head, breaking the apathy. Every copper face turned. Robin stood determined, sending three more discs careening into the cluster; three more bodies followed. The horde charged, joining the already swollen circle surrounding Robin's little group. The space between Amber and Raven was emptied. She stared at the now empty space with her mouth open, disappointment and indignation taking over.

"Hey! THOSE WERE MINE!" she shouted after them.

"AMBER," Raven had taken down her shield, revealing herself and two paramedics…and someone else. "I think you have something else to worry about." The dark girl flew off to help the others.

No explanation was necessary. Between the two EMTs a man laid prostate. That they had stayed spoke both for their bravery and for the man's condition. Jogging over, she saw the junior paramedic, a young man, was working the bag feverishly, trying to push air into the unresponsive lungs. The female paramedic was holding his neck.

Amber didn't have to 'see' the man on the ground to know he was on death's bed. Blood filled the airbag and covered his face. The mood turned instantly. If fighting was pleasure then healing was white-hot _need_.

Waving the boy off, she took the neck from the woman…and blanched. The head lolled awkwardly in her hands. _Oh, God please let it just be broken. Please, oh please, oh please…_

She closed her eyes, expanding her mind into his body, or trying to. Her receptive nerves lagged, fighting to make a connection to the man's nervous system, to feel what he felt…which was nothing. She could feel nothing; just the broken neck, a tattered lip, and the oxygen starved brain. His cord was cut, as she feared.

Helplessness began to fog her brain. She couldn't heal an injury she couldn't 'see', and she couldn't 'see' an injury _he_ couldn't feel. On her best day she would have trouble re-growing nerves, but with the collar… Amber shoved the thought aside, pushing deeper, searching for the frayed ends of the cord, digging…and being thrown out again, the collar snapping her back like a tether. 'Seeing' was as far as she could go.

Her eyes flew open; staring at the man in her hands, hopelessness and shame competed in her chest. His eyes had rolled back, bloody mouth slack and open; lights from the nearby battle lit his young face. He was younger than she was. He would have never imagined dieing here, on his own soil, in his own stronghold, leaving his mother and father from their own country.

Across from her the young paramedic sneered, pushing her away, and resuming assisted breathing. Wet trails ran down his cheeks, mingling with angry denial. Suddenly she realized she had a pair of her own.

"Take it off."

Amber jumped, the senior paramedic stood leaning against a tree behind her, arms crossed. "Take it off _now_. He's waited for you long enough," her face hardened, "and I've made him promises I don't intend to let you break."

Amber gaped. The fact that _nobody_ outside the tower was supposed to know what the collar did aside, did the woman know she was asking her to risk everyone's life for his? The steady gaze told her she did. But, is it what the others would choose…

Her hands moved on their own, unlatching the collar, ripping the tentacles free, and tossing it behind her. She let the feeling return before cradling the neck again.

* * *

Beast Boy wrapped a massive arm around one droid neck, popping the head off cleanly before moving to the next one. Gorilla-form was more agile than rex-form and worked better against the quick contraptions.

He saw 'Wonder Boy' K.O. four members of the stationary group around Raven, bringing the whole pack to life. Like they didn't have enough to deal with already. Then he noticed Amber staring dumbstruck at the retreating robotic backs. Even with a fresh horde bearing down on him, the look on her face was priceless. He would have to goad her about it later.

"GARFIELD!" BB snapped to reality, hearing his 'true' name, and realizing he'd been called more than once. He raised the droid he was holding over his head, pile-driving it into the ground with both hands, roaring in frustration. Gorilla flesh melted to human.

"WHAT?" the response was thick with annoyance; that name had reservations, and (thanks to Robin) he was busy. Him and Fearless Leader never really got into it much, at least not till BB hit puberty. All of a sudden everything about Robin just rubbed his fur the wrong way.

"Watch Ambers back." Robin was having a hard time with the fresh arrivals. Even Star and Raven seemed to be struggling, but BB didn't have it too much better. When was _he_ voted babysitter?

"I don't know if you've noticed," Garfield dodged a claw, then a foot, making use of his lighter frame while speaking, "but she doesn't have a single creepy on her."

"JUST WATCH HER, GAR!" That was that. Beast Boy yelled in a voice turning from human to bestial. His huge gorilla fist smashed the nearest bot into spare pieces.

* * *

The connection was instantaneous and extensive, feeling to the ends of _his_ ability, sensing out the components she would need. Carefully she knit his neck back together, paving the way. Bone and marrow formed and hardened around the tattered nerve endings. Stem cells from the core found the neck, wove between the dead nerves, becoming new ones; stretching, reproducing, building.

She could feel as the brain reconnected with the body, showing her the broken rib and palpitating heart. She fixed the rib and the hole in his lungs, jolting the heart into normal rhythm, and forcing the body to breakdown and expel the blood and lymph that filled chest cavity. Pain and coughing wracked the soldier's body; proof that the healing was complete. Amber pulled out, allowing the coughs and pain to become his' own again.

Junior paramedic rolled the soldier into recovery position, one hand tangled in the soldier's sleeve, the other covering his eyes as he finally broke down. Satisfaction filled her as the patient's arms and legs moved in the pain of fresh healing. His body was next to perfect, but it would take the mind a while to catch-up.

Amber took a shaky breath, fingering the two vampire-like holes bleeding in the back of her neck where the tentacles had been. It had been a long time since she healed last. She'd almost forgotten how much more stable she felt afterwards.

But, she would need her collar back. She still couldn't say what would happen if she used her gift in the offensive just now. She turned, scanning the woods for the discarded fail-safe. The tree behind her stood cold and lonely where the female EMT had been leaning.

"Hey!" Amber turned back to her temporary partner, "Where is she?"

"Probably starting the ambulance," the man grunted, pulling up the shaky soldier by the arm. "We need to get out of here." Three massive explosions rocked the base, blasting hot dust and wind in all directions, and punctuated his point.

"Right," Amber slid under the soldiers other arm, supporting her own share of weight. She would have to come back when these two were safe. She wasn't going to use her power without the collar yet, but there should be no problem with a little walk.

* * *

A black, steal-tipped boot kicked Cyborg over with a loud 'clank'. His blank mechanical eye stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Pathetic. He was alive, his communicator signal strong. That was all Slade needed.

From his wrist a woman's voice crackled to life, "I have it."

Something like relief tugged at the edge of his guard. First goal was met. Slade pressed the button on a small remote. Bombs erupted from the upper levels, the tremors echoing through the chamber. Now was the time to separate.

A hero's predictability was always something of a marvel. She would come for the pitiful pile that was Cyborg. She would have to, and he would be there.

* * *

The three of them stumbled back toward the road. At their backs the base was burning, flame and smoke roiling over the roof, heating the little clearing.

Amber's muscles were complaining. Breathing was getting harder. The soldier on her shoulder might have been younger, but he could easily outweigh her by half. Her EMT buddy didn't seem much better off. She hardly noticed when the sounds of battle began to die behind them.

"Wait," the man stopped, looking ahead where the road met the field, "Where's our ride?" Amber looked up. Her bike's remains continued to burn beside the empty road…almost empty road. Seven or eight robots blocked their way, slinking toward them, and no ambulance in sight. _Now_ they wanted to fight.

"Crap…Get him to the trees," she muttered, wriggling out from under the dead weight. She didn't know what this band was after, but they wouldn't attack a retreating target…at least they wouldn't if there was an aggressive target.

Amber bared her teeth. The fight-or-flight instinct was pressing in the back of her mind, pissing her off. Titan's weren't supposed to feel this way. This was what training was for.

She listened, waiting for sound of the men's staggering steps to move farther away. The droids simply kept walking. Good, she would wait for them to get closer before running under their reach and making use of her short arms. One center droid paused, gaze following the men with mild interest.

"HEY, you emaciated, misadjusted blow-doll. I'M OVER HERE," the droid took no notice, changing course, "shit."

Amber charged, body low, head down, eyes open. The target turned; pulling back, ready to engage. Metal met flesh as her shoulder sunk into the grey gut, driving it back and into the ground. She used the momentum to roll away, sliding to her feet. She stood slowly, grinning. Seven bots turned. At least this wouldn't be a waste.

The downed robot sat-up, head and arms lolling back like some possessed cadaver. Its head turned on its neck 180 degrees to look at her before standing. _Well that's a little disturbing. _

The droid's once sleek torso was dented, and it walked a little crooked. At least she knew she _could _damage them. Amber backed up slowly, the machines followed. That was disturbing too. Why wouldn't they be programmed to just attack her?

The machines stopped following, making a line five yards away. Amber stopped, dropping into a defensive stance. Something green and wet oozed to the ground beside her, landing in a puddle with a gelatinous '_splouch_'. Amber turned and stared into the great, ugly green mouth that was Plasmus'.

"I thought I smelled something."

* * *

**A/N: **This looked like a decent place to stop. So, I did.

Part Two of _Meeting:_ Cyborg is unconscious in the burning base. Amber has to get to him without her gifts, but it gets complicated with Slade standing in her way. Will we get a glimpse of the other side of being uniquely blessed? Well, yeah. Login to part two for the _real_ reason Amber wears the collar.

**Hod'j'Podj: **'sniff'. You know you are my best friend in the entire world (throws arms around you in a big, awkward hug). Thanks, Love. I carry on just for you…and I actually mean that.

To the rest of you who read and didn't review…I am disappointed. Very disappointed indeed.


	5. Separation

This chapter's short. And, as you've probably already noticed, this chapter is **_Freakin' late._** I only waited two years to truly update…don't mind me. Here's hoping Slade stays creepy…

Disclaimer: Go ahead, sue me…you can have all my debt.

* * *

Slade caught himself drumming his fingers, and folded them calmly behind his back.

He had not expected her to assist the EMT back to the road. This put a speed bump in an otherwise smooth sequence of events.

She would have to be herded back, or simply taken in the open. Either course would require a delicate touch, and perfect control. Plasmus provided both.

* * *

They had plowed through more than half of the army by now. The remaining stragglers were fighting one-on-one while the rest stayed back. It wasn't normal. It wasn't tactical. What the _hell_ was going on?

The first explosion sent flame and debris spiraling into the air from the south-most side. Two more explosions followed, throwing Starfire to the ground. Harsh white light flooded the field. The pressure waves tore at the trees, their leaves hissing. One thought ran through everyone's mind; Cyborg.

Star stood, eyes glued to the burning base. Behind her Raven wiped out three droids, orange light glaring across her pale skin. Robin had that look on his face that meant things just got bad.

"Robin, why has Cyborg not returned to assist us in the butt-woop?" Stars eyes were large and questioning. Robin grit his teeth. Cyborg's communicator was still on. He was still alive, but they had to get to him, now. The others could handle it from here.

"Raven, You're with me. Star, Beast Boy…" Robin stopped mid-sentence. The changeling was already in cheetah form, tearing across the field in the opposite direction. "What the…"

"Plasmus!" Star pointed past BB to where Amber was wrestling her way out of the oozy, purple blob that had her pinned to the ground.

"Robin!" Raven's cry hung suspended in the air as Robin turned.

* * *

Plasmus seemed to contemplate the girl for a second (if the pause in drooling could be misconstrued as a thoughtful expression). His two massive, trunk-like arms spread wide, as if preparing to scoop her up into a bear hug…which was, most likely, what he was about to do.

She didn't know what she was thinking, or if she was thinking. Amber didn't think to dodge or to run. That would have been too easy. Instead, she made a dive between Plasmus' legs. Plasmus sat down.

All of the air slammed from her lungs as the wet weight crushed her into to ground. Amber recovered her breath, digging her fingers into the mud, trying to extricate her lower half. The ooze traveled up her back, over her shoulders. Amber panicked and redoubled her struggle, growling in frustration as she was finally submerged.

Blackness. Blackness and silence and warmth overtook her. She continued twisting and fighting until she couldn't hold her breath anymore. She exhaled, feeling the strength leave her limbs. Slowly, she let the silence close in; let the faint thump of her heartbeat fill her head.

But, it wasn't her heartbeat. In the back of her mind she felt the familiar presence of something human…human….

Pouring rain, thunder, flashing lights, and _air_ flew back to her in a whirlwind of senses. She rolled over, coughing and spitting and gagging. Shaking slightly she lifted her head, and was greeted with the image of Plasmus locked in the jaws of a green tyrannosaurus. Twisted metal remains littered the ground where the robots used to be.

In a great, sinuous shift of weight Beast Boy sent the slimy mass careening into a stand of trees, smearing ooze trail to his final stopping place. BB's steely eyes turned watery, making him look almost kittenish, as he turned human.

"EEEWWWWW," BB squealed, sticking out his unnaturally long tongue and scraping at it for all he was worth. The move was so undeniably Beast Boy.

Her strength returning, she got unsteadily to her feet. Beast Boy stopped moaning long enough to glare.

"What were you thinking?! That never works…_not even in the movies_!" BB's voice broke while he waved his arms around to enhance his point.

"That thing's human!" Amber's voice was airy as she contemplated the implications.

Beast Boy fixed her with a soggy, blank look that clearly said, '_the point being?_' A long globular arm shot from the trees, slamming BB full in the side. His body carried several yards before coming to a grinding halt.

Amber suppressed the urge to run to his side like some lost damsel. The sound of splintering wood and a raging howl announced Plasmus' return to consciousness.

Plasmus jerked around like a wounded animal looking for its attacker. His bulgy green eyes locked with hers. He spasmed, then went still. The eerie sense that Plasmus was two different entities passed through her mind briefly. Then Plasmus charged.

She watched in slow motion as he neared, raised a large septic fist, and brought it down. She jumped back; spinning away from the impact while the creature skidded past into a stop.

Amber hadn't even regained her footing when tentacle-like extensions snapped her from the air like a fly, and she was swallowed into darkness again.

* * *

With his control, Plasmus was a smart, powerful precision instrument. He could rip apart mountainsides, eat through steal, and render a hostage completely unconscious while he monitored her vitals, and kept her alive. A very flexible weapon indeed.

He watched, waiting for her blood pressure to drop, signaling unconsciousness. He waited for all of his gauges and monitors and instruments to tell him the target was neutralized, and plans could move forward. Then, simultaneously, they all went blank.

* * *

A/N: Yeeeeah, well...there it is. Next one will be longer. I'll get in the habit...really.


End file.
